


eight hands on the goblet of fire

by CountessKlair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cedric Diggory Lives, Crutiatus Curse, Feral Behavior, Feral Veela Fleur Delacour, Fix-It, Friendship, Fuck Rita Skeeter, Gen, Graphic Description of Injuries, Harry Potter is lowkey Feral, Triwizard Tournament, a fourteen year old who did NOTHING WRONG, blink and you'll miss it anti Dumbledore, hand holding, in the defense of Harry Potter, physical comfort, unorthodox writing style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountessKlair/pseuds/CountessKlair
Summary: in which the Triwizard Tournament goes very differently than anyone expected.the lone champion dies, but the group survives.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour & Cedric Diggory & Viktor Krum & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Comments: 26
Kudos: 518
Collections: 5 Star HP Works





	eight hands on the goblet of fire

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the description is a paraphrase of that one quote from Game of Thrones. The writing style in this is...unorthodox. I'm trying something.

maybe it shouldn’t have been like this.

but it had been like this ever since the first task, when Fleur pulled out the Welsh Green, a newly realized fear set in around them. eyes darted over, hearts pounded as one as tiny figurines representing very real threats were cupped in too-young palms.

the cannon had sounded and Cedric was shaken, just standing at the exit with trembling hands, the roaring crowd and the roaring dragon beyond.

then, a hand wound through his, small and cool and trembling just as much. Fleur.

another hand landed on his shoulder, heavy, warm, a tremble in the palm. Viktor.

a third at his elbow, smaller, clutching, certain, no tremors.

Cedric looked over at Harry and wondered how awful the last three years had really been for the boy to give him that grave awareness in his eyes, eyes that were far older than any fourteen-year-old had a right to have.

three hands squeezed, and an equilibrium wove through Cedric’s gut.

he walked out of the tent and into the dragon’s lair. 

Cedric was never certain, and yet he _was_ certain that the others had the same kind of experience going to face the dragons. hands supporting, squeezing, giving ease. 

all but Harry, who had to face it all alone.

then the second task came around, and the four of them were standing on the platform above the black lake, looking for people who weren’t there, standing under the watchful eyes of adults who were using them to play out old feuds.

the look on Harry’s face threatened to gut Cedric. like none of this surprised him. like he was used to the threat of death and ruin, of the threat of a crowd turning against him at the slightest provocation.

Viktor had the same sort of look.

Cedric had to wonder if he was the only one who saw it, but then he looked at Fleur and knew she saw it too.

the adults had to back off as the four of them were told to go up to their marks.

instead, the four of them drew in close together. Fleur reached for Cedric’s hand first, then Viktor’s. Viktor took Harry’s hand, and without even hesitating, Harry took Cedric’s.

for a few heartbeats, everything else fell away. the crowd, the onlooking school and ministry officials, the freezing weather, the lapping of the lake pushing closer and closer onto the dock in sickly beckoning waves.

for a few heartbeats, they all breathed as one in the silence between them. all but Harry's hands shook, knowing now what was at stake, the danger they were in. 

for a few heartbeats, they were fine. safe. whole.

then it was over when Karkarov ripped Viktor away, hissing something in Bulgarian that made him flinch.

the four of them took their marks and dove into the water.

Cedric was there at the bottom second, only just after Harry, who was looking between Ron and Hermione with a panicked expression like this wasn’t a choice he wanted to make. Harry reached for Ron first only because he was closer, and then reached for Hermione as well and the merfolk charged

Cedric readied his wand, speeding forward towards them and ready to strike when suddenly Viktor charged through and chased them off, grabbing Hermione without a second thought.

and wasn’t that horrible, that among three schools Hermione Granger was the one person he cared most about. people Viktor had known his entire life didn’t hold the trust and love that a girl he’d known five and a half months held.

Cedric freed Cho and tapped his watch at Harry, who nodded in understanding. Viktor spared a moment to look Harry over, checking he was alive and relatively well, and then looked at Cedric. a smile spread across Cedric's face as they sped off towards the surface. 

quietly, Cedric was impressed with Viktor and Harry. the shark head charm was short-lived, and Viktor was lucky it’d lasted this long. and whatever Harry had done to change his form so thoroughly like that was, frankly, simply, impressive.

Cedric and Viktor were neck and neck in their race to the top, something like relief and playful competition between them as the water got brighter, lighter.

neither of them looked behind them. 

why would they?

Harry was Harry Potter. and he was right behind them.

Fleur had proved she was capable, she wouldn’t be long behind them either.

Cedric reached the surface just before Viktor, Viktor’s charm expiring just in time for the Seeker to give Cedric a bright, playfully mock-angry laugh.

Hermione and Cho came back to the world on the docks, coughing up lake water and a gag of herbs from their throats.

Cedric and Viktor were laughing, relieved and lightheaded.

and then that ended when Fleur dropped down to her knees next to them with desperate eyes and no Gabrielle in sight.

Fleur had never even laid eyes on her sister before the Grindylows got her. now Hermione’s eyes were wide and wet with tears as Cho wrapped her in her arms and tried to gently quiet her so Rita Skeeter wouldn't hear, Ginny climbing down from above to join them with eyes that hurt Cedric to see, the echoes of two years ago thrumming in his memory.

Fleur and Viktor and Cedric huddled together at the very edge of the docks, hands winding together, hearts pounding as one, searching searching searching as Fleur keened in French.

Dumbledore wouldn’t let anyone die at the bottom of the black lake…right?

sure, Madame Maxine had been the one to rescue Fleur when the health monitor Madame Pomfrey had placed on each of them had alerted everyone of her state, but Dumbledore would do the same for Harry, or for Gabrielle if Harry had taken Ron and thought Fleur was coming. Dumbledore wouldn't just let the merfolk keep them in the depths.

right?

the clock had almost run out, the seconds ticking by closer and closer to the finish, and with three minutes to go, Ron and Gabrielle breached the surface, choking and panicked.

alone.

Fleur nearly dove right back into the water to get her sister, only held back by Viktor and Cedric’s hands and shushing words.

Gabrielle was wrapped in three towels as soon she reached the platform while Ron held her steady enough for her to climb, her teeth chattering in the wind and frigid water, and she was immediately sent to the medic tent when Viktor’s hand came away wet with blood and Cedric ripped back Gabrielle’s sleeve to reveal a nasty Grindylow bite.

and yet, even though her sister was lead away, Fleur fell right back in between Viktor and Cedric, hands finding each other and shoulders pushing together as they watched the water for Harry.

Hermione and Ron were muttering under their breath behind them like prayers, things that made Cedric’s head spin.

“he survived Voldemort down in the dungeons first year”

“he survived the basilisk”

“he survived Tom Riddle and the diary”

“he survived rogue bludgers and falling from ten thousand feet”

“he survived a werewolf on the full moon”

“he survived the dementors at the black lake”

“he survived a dragon”

“he survived”

“he’s fine”

“he’s fine”

“he’s fine”

with less than one minute to go, the water surface broke sharply up and suddenly Harry landed, heavily, gasping, coughing, bleeding, on the deck.

as one, the three of them snatched towels and bandages from the people around them, wrapping them around Harry and shushing him when he could not bite back the pain any longer as they clumsily wrapped scratches and bites and bruises.

Fleur’s hands were white-knuckled, her fair skin almost blue from the chill, and she pressed her thanks into Harry’s temple, tears falling down her cheeks while Cedric shielded them from Rita Skeeter’s wretched camera and wicked tongue as Viktor barked an order at the Durmstrang students to shut her out.

Cedric grinned at her squawking as they complied.

Harry barely had his breath back when he asked, “Ron. Mione. Cho. Gabrielle.”

“fine,” Viktor said beneath the roar of the crowd and the arguing of the judges, rubbing circles over Harry’s arms to warm him, head dipped low so no one saw his mouth move. “all fine. safe.”

“thanks to you,” Cedric said, and Harry met his gaze.

Cedric’s throat went dry at the cautious hope in Harry's eyes, the sheer exhaustion, the palpable pressure he saw there on Harry to do everything, everything, the pressure of the Boy Who Lived living in those eyes and Cedric wondered how no one else had ever seen it.

and then Ron and Hermione pushed in beside them without shoving the rest of them away, their hands running over Harry, checking his body for injuries like they didn’t trust Harry to tell them about them, like maybe he would hide them from them, Ron and Hermione muttering darkly about the tournament and trading insults for the occupants of the black lake even as their voices softened when they spoke to Harry.

maybe it wasn’t just Cedric who saw those things weighing on Harry, dragging him into the dark like Grindylows into the muck at the bottom of a scottish lake.

the third task came around. 

the stands shook with the noise of the cheering crowd, the band, the happy scream of cannon fire.

and yet all of them but Harry shook in fear.

Harry had warned them something was coming, something awful, something dark.

maybe if they hadn’t looked at him in these last few months they wouldn’t have believed him. maybe if they hadn’t seen him, really looked and seen him, seen in his eyes what had been done to him, what he had been forced to endure without breaking or bending or complaining, they might not have believed him.

but they had.

and they did.

and so they stood together, alone in the roaring crowd.

breathing.

shaking.

fearing.

Harry reached out first, and the rest of them followed through soon after, pulling in close enough they rested their heads together. 

just like always Harry was steady as a rock, even with the wild, apprehensive look in the corners of his eyes as he watched his surroundings like he expected something to leap out at him from the shadows.

“whatever happens,” Harry said solemnly, “don’t let your guard down. be ready to Apparate if necessary. just be ready.”

Viktor nodded, slow and steady. “be safe,” he growled as each of them met his eyes.

Fleur blew out a shaky breath, her veela eyes blinking rapidly to clear away the threatening tears. she pressed firm kisses to each of their temples and ordered them fiercely not to die.

Cedric held on tighter for a moment. “some game.”

Harry laughed bitterly, sending Dumbledore a look that Cedric didn’t even begin to understand. “some game.”

they were pulled away from each other then, and barely given a moment to breathe before the cannon sounded and Cedric and Harry were shoved inside in separate entrances.

but they'd planned for this.

in his search, Cedric encountered everything from acromantuals and redcaps to a sphinx and rapidly changing hedge pathways that threatened to swallow him.

but nothing compared to when he turned a corner and stumbled on Harry and Viktor and Viktor turned to him with fogged over eyes and a deadweight stance and hurled a curse in a voice that didn’t sound like his.

Cedric managed to hit him with a stunning charm, and Viktor dropped to the ground.

Harry dropped down next to him and turned Viktor over to check his pulse and eyes and breathing, calling to Cedric as he approached, “he was bewitched”

“i know,” Cedric said, panting, watching the hedge for threat and movement. “Fleur?”

“here,” she called, emerging from the other corner, blood dripping down her left cheek from a thin cut high on her cheekbone, eyes wild and fierce. 

Cedric swallowed, looking at the two of them. “how do you want to play this?” 

Harry looked up at him in confusion, head tilted oddly.

he didn’t get to say whatever he was about to when all of a sudden the hedge around them came to life and tried to swallow Viktor whole. the three of them made noises of protest, reaching out and picking Viktor’s bulky body up, but they had no time to talk before they were forced into action, running ahead of the hedge nipping at their running heels, clumsily carrying Viktor between them. 

they dodged newly forming corners and turns that suddenly closed off as they approached.

formulaic.

“it’s leading us somewhere!” Harry yelled.

that was what concerned Cedric.

Fleur spat something in French, her wand lighting up, and Viktor came gasping back to reality, falling into running step with them like it was second nature, his eyes clear and his own once more.

then, suddenly, they turned a new corner and the maze went silent and still.

for a while, the four of them just waited for something, whatever had led them here.

but nothing happened.

they stood there, panting, eyes darting over one another critically, looking for injuries and the sources of the blood on their clothes.

“you” Fleur gasped at Viktor, “were bewitched.”

Viktor spat out blood. “Karkarov.”

Harry and Fleur snarled in fury, reaching for him to steady him when he wavered slightly, wincing when he put too much weight on his right foot. twisted, then.

Viktor wiped more blood from his mouth, meeting Cedric’s eyes. “you have a mean stunning hex.”

Cedric grinned wide.

they were nearly done now. they’d found one another, as planned. they just had to find the cup and get the fuck out as planned.

that was when Cedric finally noticed an odd blue glimmer in the corner of his eye.

“Harry.”

it was the cup. 

they looked at each other and nodded before they ran for it as one, and Cedric had no doubt they all felt the same desire for this to be over as soon as possible.

they skid to a stop in front of the cup, looking at each other.

“together,” Harry said. just like they planned.

“one,” Fleur said.

“two,” Viktor said.

“three,” they all said as they reached for the cup at the same time.

Cedric didn’t know what he was expecting, but the hook sinking into his gut and wrenching him back, his hand welding to the surface of the cup as the four of them were sent spinning into the air was not it. they landed hard, the cup falling away.

Cedric expected the cheering of the crowd or the trumpeting of the band.

nothing.

he looked up, freezing in place.

they were in a graveyard.

a very dark, creepy graveyard.

a ramshackle building and a large cold cauldron positioned in front of a large grave depicting a statue of the Grim Reaper were the only things other than graves in sight.

something was waiting for them here.

“it’s a portkey,” Viktor said from where he was studying the cup, not touching it.

Fleur studied her surroundings very carefully, her head swiveling in an eerie way, her eyes reflecting the moonlight like a night creature's did.

Cedric stood, motioning Viktor closer, something terrible in his gut. “keep close.”

“fuck,” Harry cursed.

Cedric looked over, and to his horror, Harry was shaking.

Harry, who didn’t tremble under threat of death or dragons, was shaking as he looked at a grave.

“Tom Riddle” he gasped, and the rest of them drew their wands, closing ranks.

a man melted out of the shadows of the ramshackle building, carrying a bundle of cloth.

the bundle in the man’s arms stirred as the cauldron suddenly came to life, fire flaring beneath its base.

“how kind of him to bring us playthings. capture the spares,” a raspy voice cackled, although the man in front of them’s mouth did not move.

“no!” Harry screamed, leaping in front of them all, but he was tossed away by a curse from the man, who dodged their spells. 

three more men melted out of the shadows behind them wearing dark robes and Death Eater masks, and all too quickly Viktor and Fleur and Cedric were on the ground without their wands, a strange man’s foot pressing heavily on each of their throats.

Harry was captured up against the largest grave, the one with the Reaper that the cauldron was positioned in front of. pinned like a bug for dissection.

the first man unwrapped the bundle in his arms, revealing a horrid, unrecognizable, pale creature which muttered, “do it now, Wormtail!”

and the creature was put into the boiling cauldron.

the man, Wormtail, approached Harry.

“get away from him!” Cedric screamed, Fleur and Viktor also renewing their struggling against their captors.

Wormtail only gave them a glare before flicking his wand at them, and their voices went silent.

Wormtail began an incantation.

“Bone of the father unwillingly given.” a bone was lifted from the grave with the Grim Reaper, dropping with a hiss of steam into the cauldron.

“Flesh of the servant willingly sacrificed.” Wormtail drew a silver knife and cut off his right hand. he screamed in pain as his severed hand fell into the now roiling water.

then, Wormtail turned back to Harry with that same bloody silver knife. 

they all started to struggle, but could not throw off their captors.

“Blood of the enemy forcibly taken.” Wormtail cut open Harry’s sleeve, then dragged his knife deep in the flowing direction of the veins in Harry's left forearm, the blood spilling free as Harry thrashed, unable to move away, screaming, the scent of burning flesh carrying over to them as Wormtail flicked the blood into the cauldron.

“The Dark Lord will rise again.”

the cauldron exploded into a dark fog that curled wickedly in on itself, something forming from within.

the mist settled, revealing…

Voldemort.

He Who Must Not Be Named.

The Dark Lord.

You Know Who.

the creature who stalked Harry’s every step and haunted his dreams.

a snake wearing robes.

Voldemort reached out and took Wormtail’s last whole arm, pressed the wand offered to him to the same forearm that Wormtail had mutilated on Harry, and called out a curse Cedric didn’t know.

the same symbol that had appeared at the world cup twisted into the sky, the maw of the skull opening as the snake writhed. from the open jaws came nine black trailing shadows that shot like comets towards the graveyard, and where they landed, revealed a Death Eater.

Cedric's heart pounded.

they hadn't planned for this.

one by one, Voldemort named, berated, and unmasked them, cursing them and their line, twisting their bodies with careless flicks of his wand, laughing.

and then he caught sight of Harry.

at Voldemort’s mere touch, Harry screamed in pain, thrashing as violently as possible in his captured position, blood still dripping down his body and soaking the ground and grave beneath.

the spell Wormtail cast was too strong, though, and as much as they struggled, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor could not get free.

Voldemort released Harry, forced him into a dueling position, hissing, serpent-like, that he would take back the fame and glory and power Harry had stolen.

Harry was tortured, toyed with, tossed between Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and yet still fighting back.

then he was left on the ground in front of the Reaper, shaking, bleeding, twitching from the last of Lucius Malfoy’s Crutiatus. 

then Voldemort caught sight of Fleur. 

“ah,” he sneered, floating like a wraith over to her, pressing death white, grimy, too long fingers to her blood-stained hair. “a little tarnished, perhaps, but still a good example. shall i show you, Harry, how i killed your filthy muggle mother?”

he lifted his wand to strike but Harry reacted first and Voldemort was forced to turn back to Harry to continue the fight.

a silent pop echoed in Cedric’s ears and he looked over to meet Fleur and Viktor’s eyes in the glow of the duel.

“do nothing!” Voldemort screamed at his followers as they crowded closer to the duel, and they froze in their steps, unable to move. “he is mine to finish!”

“one,” Fleur whispered.

“two,” Viktor hissed.

“three,” Cedric finished. 

as one they threw off their captors and took back their wands.

Cedric stunned their captors.

Fleur opened her mouth, her wand pointed at her own throat, and **_sang_** , something so terrible and dark the Death Eaters fell screaming to the ground, clutching at suddenly bloody ears.

Viktor pounded against the barrier between them and Harry, eyes furious and desperate.

blue ghostly figures stood beside Harry, their mouths moving with words they could not hear, Fleur still _screaming, **singing**_ as she backed up to join them, but Cedric could feel it would not last.

Harry met their eyes.

‘together’ he mouthed, and they nodded, ready.

Harry gave a decisive nod and the dueling lights, green and red, ceased, the blue wisps darting forward and swallowing Voldemort.

it took less than two seconds.

Fleur stopped her dark song _._ Viktor and Cedric and Fleur caught Harry as he came towards them, their hands weaving together.

“accio!” Cedric called for the cup. 

it met his fingers and engulfed them all just as the blue wisps disappeared.

they landed even harder than they had landed in the graveyard, gasping, bleeding, shaking.

the roaring crowd started up immediately, the fanfare of the band soon after.

Fleur was the first to straighten up, her hands shoving at Viktor and Cedric’s.

“off off off!” she called desperately in a horribly raw, blood wet voice, and they obeyed, panic bubbling in their chests when they realized Harry was not _breathing_.

Cedric’s knee accidentally came too close and he realized with a sickening sinking feeling that that sharp thing poking his knee was one of Harry’s _ribs_.

“POMFREY!” Cedric screamed as Viktor gently cradled Harry’s head in his lap and Fleur kept checking him for other injuries.

the crowd quickly went silent as the head nurse came forth from the crowd that had been descending on them.

“everyone stay back!” McGonagall called, but even she didn’t dare try to stop Ron and Hermione when they pushed through the crowd to fall next to Harry, cursing and crying and shaking.

Madame Pomfrey knelt down beside Cedric, reaching out to Harry.

as one, Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric covered his body with their own, and Fleur snarled, her face shifting features, going angular and cruel like her ancestor’s other forms. blood stained her chin and mouth, running down in rivulets over her throat, and Cedric wondered how horribly she’d ripped her vocal cords to give them time.

Madam Pomfrey met their gazes, calm. “i need to see him,” she said softly.

they still didn’t move.

a soft hand fell on Cedric’s shoulder. “come on,” Hermione gasped wetly. “she can heal him.”

Ron was murmuring to Fleur, too low for Cedric to hear, though he could tell Viktor was listening as well.

but it was enough.

by inches, the three of them backed off, though only enough that Madame Pomfrey could work, pulling potions and bandages and splints from her bag and Harry didn’t respond once.

he didn’t respond when she relocated his left shoulder, or when she poured essence of dittany onto the deep cruel wound in his left forearm to seal it before he bled out, or when she pulled shards of glass and metal and bone from the cauldron and the graveyard from his body, one shard in his side so large it was a big as Cedric’s fist.

he still didn’t stir.

until she got to the broken rib poking through Harry’s side and raised her wand. “episkey.”

Harry came awake screaming, his hands clutching.

but they were there to catch him.

Fleur wiped blood from Harry’s cheek, Viktor rumbled words soothingly in Bulgarian, and Cedric clutched at one of Harry’s hands, the one not currently held by a pale, solemn-faced Ron.

Harry’s eyes were wild. “he’s back.”

the crowd was silent.

tears spilled over Harry’s cheeks, despair and agony in his broken voice. “he’s back. Voldemort’s back.”

then, Harry looked over them wildly. “you, are you…are you?”

Cedric watched Viktor and Fleur’s hands curl tight into Harry’s body. 

“fine.” Viktor said softly. “all fine. safe.”

“Mione, Ron-”

“here,” Ron said, his hand now wrapped tight over the sticky blood-slick skin of Harry’s left forearm, his palm covering the worst of the resulting scars from the cursed knife.

“safe,” Hermione promised, her hand wiping away a tear under Harry's eye.

Harry nodded, relief flooding his face before his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.

“it’s nothing,” Madame Pomfrey said before anyone panicked. “this is normal. i have to get him to the hospital wing.”

but she didn’t move, not until Ron and Hermione, their hands dug deep into Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor’s clothing, pulled them all back from hovering over Harry.

Madame Pomfrey gently levitated Harry, and when his ripped, blood-soaked form rose into the view of the crowd there were gasps and screams and the flash of a camera.

Cedric’s blood boiled.

this wasn't just some fluff piece for Rita Skeeter to pontificate about, some way for her to circle jerk herself into feeling superior, and Cedric was going to rip that superiority from her skull if he had to.

he stood, feeling Fleur and Viktor behind him as he stalked over to Rita Skeeter and ripped the camera out of her stupid photographer’s hands.

he threw it to the ground, and Viktor spat, “bombarda!” at it, smiling when it exploded in a shower of sparks.

Cedric met Rita Skeeter’s stunned beetle-like gaze.

“you stay away from Harry Potter,” Cedric snarled, “or so help me God I’ll kill you.”

Rita sputtered, mad as a hornet, but altogether alone in her protests.

Dumbledore stepped out from the crowd and very calmly said, “i think the Daily Prophet has enough information on what has transpired for the moment. do feel free to retire to your rooms at hogsmeade.”

Rita Skeeter looked over the crowd, but found no one to support her.

her eyes were narrow and her face flushed with rage as she jabbed a finger at Cedric. “you don’t know what an enemy you’ve made.”

Cedric felt a bloody smile curl over his teeth, relishing the way Rita paled and stumbled back from the expression. “oh yeah? try me.”

she scurried away, her photographer following.

silence reigned for a moment, and then a heavy hand fell on Viktor’s shoulder.

“you-”

officially, Cedric had had enough with almost every adult in his fucking life.

Cedric and Fleur spun around and shoved between Viktor and Karkarov at the same time, hints of that same shift coming over Fleur’s face.

“you bewitched him,” Cedric spat, ignoring the look of genuine shock on Karkarov’s face. “you don’t get to touch him.”

“or what?” Karkarov sneered. “i do not fear you, boy.”

“no?” Cedric felt that same smile curl over his face. “do you fear her?”

Fleur snarled, an echo of that same energy she had when she’d _screamed, **sang**_ , at the graveyard thrumming in the sound.

Karkarov went white and stumbled back, right into Alastor Moody, who’s grin was just as lethal as Cedric’s felt. “well now, Karkarov, what’s this i hear about a bewitching?”

“i will tell you later,” Viktor said, voice perfectly level, his hands smoothing calmingly over Fleur’s and Cedric’s backs. “tomorrow.”

Cedric grinned as Moody hauled Karkarov off.

for a moment, Cedric just stood there with them, panting, thinking about grabbing Fleur and Viktor and Ron and Hermione and running to the hospital wing.

then suddenly, his father was in front of him, and most of the fight left Cedric. “hey, dad.”

his father was crying, looking at the blood, but he pulled him into a fierce hug regardless of it.

over his father’s shoulder, Cedric watched his mother approach Fleur, looking over her and Viktor like she wanted to reach for them but didn't want to get her hand bitten off. “you saved my son?”

“no,” they answered together, voices severe.

“Harry saved us all.” Fleur’s voice was raw, and new blood spilled over her lips as she spoke. 

Cedric thought it was a little funny how everyone but he, Viktor, Ron, Hermione, and his mother flinched as it did. even the Beauxbatons students and Madame Maxine had reacted. actually, they'd backed further away from her than the others, possibly because they knew what her song could do when she chose to sing it.

Gabrielle shoved her way free from her fellow students restraining grip and slipped between her sister and Viktor, murmuring soothingly in French, making Fleur smile, bloody and pleased.

Viktor met Cedric's mother’s eyes. “Harry saved us all, and we saved Harry.”

everything was a bit of a blur after that, movement and faces and color and voices, time passing rapidly, but one constant was their hands finding each other’s over and over. 

until they were in the hospital wing, and Fleur was glaring at Ron for stealing the spot on the small hospital bed next to Harry. Hermione and Viktor were speaking in low voices from their chairs next to Harry’s head, and Cedric was sitting on the other side next to Fleur, his chest draped over Ron and Harry’s legs.

one of his hands held Viktor’s and the other held Fleur’s. Fleur’s other hand held Ron’s, who in turn held Harry's, whose other hand was in Hermione’s whose other hand held Viktor’s.

“honestly,” Ron murmured sleepily from his undoubtedly awkward position curled around Harry’s slightly snoring form. “just want one quiet year at hogwarts.”

Cedric chuckled, exhaustion pulling his eyes low.

there would be a reckoning.

he’d pissed off Rita Skeeter, who held the Daily Prophet in the palm of her hand.

Karkarov was dead, because he was innocent of being the one to imperio Viktor, because Alastor Moody wasn’t Alastor Moody.

and Voldemort was alive.

but so were they.

so Cedric closed his eyes, focusing on the hands holding his, the heartbeats he could imagine beating in time with his own, and slept.

fine.

safe.

whole.


End file.
